


Scorpia

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 05:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14888366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Scorpia

"Why did they call her Scorpia?"

The light from the only digital display on the street filtered through the blinds and gave Marco a moving tattoo of indistinct colors. His bulky orcish frame was completely still, so that you might confuse him for a wax figure or a taxidermy display, were it not for the occasional blink and the active commlink covering his eyes.

"Before the whole UGE thing? Well, I mean, she always had an affinity for them..." he said, still barely moving. That didn’t sit well with Slip. Nobody has just an “affinity” for scorpions. Given it lent itself to her name in the shadows, a more accurate term was “obsession.” He moved more than Marco, fidgeting slightly even as he leaned against the wall, moreso than he normally would. Given how dark it was in Marco’s safehouse, he couldn’t be sure there wasn’t something crawling about his feet, and that unnerved him. All this talk about scorpions wasn’t helping.

“Does she keep them?” he said, idly scratching his arm and shivering. It was the cold, he told himself.

Marco grunted, amused. “Last I saw, she only had a few dozen,” he said.

That was less than comforting. An arranged date with a girl that had a six-foot-long stinger was terrifying enough without knowing that she probably kept smaller, less humanoid scorpions for fun. Slip saw that Marco was holding up another conversation subvocally over his commlink. Normally, he would have tried to read his lips, but he found himself distracted.

"And you think... I'm her type?"

"Yeah, she likes unaugmented humans," Marco said, more distracted now.

"No, I meant, like..." Slip said, gesturing towards his body. He had a very slight build, perfect for the kind of infiltration that involved slipping into tight spaces, hence the shadownym. 

"Oh. Oh! Yeah. Definitely,” he said, looking the boy up and down. Slip pretended to not notice his attention to detail. Everyone knew Marco was an “anything that moves” kind of fixer. “You should have no problems seducing her. She doesn’t really like crowds, so she’ll probably excuse herself up to her penthouse at some point, hopefully with you in tow. At some point during the night's… festivities…” he said, and Slip’s hand covered his smirk, “…while she's out of the room, you’ll have to check her comm for anything you can find. Anything you can use for blackmail."

“I would think she’d be more careful than that.”

Marco grunted. The pattern of the colored light coming in splashed his face in a sinister red. “You don’t get to the top like she has while pulling amateur-hour horseshit like that, for sure,” he said, tapping his finger against his own commlink. “I’ve fried more than a few dataslaves in my time, before you start getting any ideas,” he said. Slip hadn’t considered it; he wasn’t much of a hacker. “But I happen to know her comm doesn’t have any user-verification, on account of her freaky eyes. She’s never had a problem with anyone pinching her comm, for obvious reasons.”

At the mention of “pinching,” Slip winced. “Well, she might change her mind after tomorrow.”

The color noise on Marco’s face slowly slipped downwards as he leaned back in his chair, until it covered only the bottom half. It was a white light, setting his eyes into dark relief. “I’m sure she will.”

The party was open-air, sixty stories up. There were more floors just above them, maybe six or seven flights up, but the balcony they were on overlooked the surrounding city on two sides. Slip wouldn’t have been surprised if someone ended up getting taken out from eight hundred yards, given the crowd. Even his own “target” was a possible mark. He couldn’t say for sure, but there was no doubt that at least a quarter of the attendees were fellow runners. He’d met some of them, and the rest just had the look. Which is to say, they blended in perfectly, aside from that nagging notion that you absolutely, under no circumstances, wanted to give them a reason to dislike you.

A Troll bigger than Slip, if he stood on his own shoulders, was entertaining a crowd with his gymnastics. You wouldn’t think someone that weighed half a ton could pull off a standing backflip, but he managed the full triple back-handspring, landing with enough force to scatter dust. It was executed perfectly, until he staggered a bit at the end, which is when Slip noticed that he was as drunk as they get. Managing that sort of acrobatic feat while completely plastered was impressive enough, but when the onlookers called for an encore, he managed to up the ante. After three successive back-handsprings, he twisted in the air like a 14-year-old girl, and landed on his feet… inches away from the balcony ledge. He teetered back on his feet, and Slip could tell he was about to go over, when out of nowhere some… object righted his balance, and, in fact, knocked him flat on his face.

The crowd went still and silent, and only the drunken Troll was still laughing and guffawing. That is, until he looked up, and saw who was standing over him. He slowly got to his feet, and looked down on the woman that’d saved him, and Slip saw nothing but fear in his eyes.

“You’ve had one too many, Mikio. Why don’t you go and get some fresh air?”

Stunned sober, Mikio wasn’t looking at the woman, but at the immense tail, tipped with a stinger that she carried behind her. He nodded slowly, and two bouncers came to escort him away. One was also a Troll and even he came up to Mikio’s shoulders, but as he was led away, Slip could see him trembling.   
The woman that had saved him was undoubtedly Scorpia; the six-foot long scorpion stinger affixed to her made that unquestionably clear. Her hair was short, dark, cropped over one eye, and though she had a light build, she seemed particularly fit. Were it not for her peculiar orange, inhuman eyes or her boyish haircut or her, oh yeah, tremendous prehensile stinger, her most obvious feature would be her breasts, which, along with her wide hips, gave her tailored tactile suit a very distinctive shape. He was surprised to see that she wore heels; they seemed singularly out of place in her ensemble, which was clearly more suitable for impromptu acrobatics than it was for evening wear. He wondered if the heels were her way of “dressing down,” or if she was sensitive about her height. Even wearing them, she was barely taller than Slip, who wasn’t very tall himself.

He was so fixated on her peculiar footwear that it didn’t immediately “click” that said footwear was approaching him. When he looked up, he saw that she was walking towards him, her “tail” swaying behind her, her burning eyes fixated on him, no matter how he tried to dodge them.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she said, her voice surprisingly high, given her appearance. “Particularly once I’ve hurled you over that ledge there.”

He almost found himself short of words, but someone in his line of work couldn’t afford to be caught flat-footed, whether in a firefight or in a conversation. “Can’t a guy look, at least?”

Scorpia didn’t blink. He found it disconcerting. “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s not polite to stare?” she said, her face not betraying whether she was placated by his response or further incensed. Slip noticed the partygoers around them had stopped looking at him. “If she didn’t, I’d be happy to pick up the slack.”

His mind raced. He knew better than to focus on her stinger, but it was difficult when she brandishing it so… threateningly. He forced himself to look at her face, at those eyes, which seemed to look through him. "If you don’t want me to look, I won’t,” he started, and tried to gauge her reaction, but she was infuriatingly impossible to read, “but I don’t think that’s very fair.”  
He was taking a gamble and he knew it, but he hoped she couldn’t smell his fear. 

“What’s not fair?” she said, and he thought he saw just a glimpse of her guard weakening, so he pressed on.

“Well, I came here to meet pretty women, and the prettiest one here doesn’t want me to look at her.”

He almost flinched when she took a step towards him, and his vision flicked to the tip of her stinger for a split second, but it wasn’t moving. She held out her hand to him. “Do you dance?”

The moment she offered her hand, the music changed from some post-electronic ghostrock to something… classier. Suddenly, people were looking at him again. He took her hand. “With you? Of course.”

Still unblinking, she stepped closer to him, and he put his hand on her hip. He could actually feel her muscles tense and relax as she moved the stinger aside so it wouldn’t get in his way. He shivered, and hoped she didn’t notice. When the music picked up, he recognized the rhythm. It was a tango.

He didn’t know how to do anything but a basic step, but immediately, he realized that she was the one leading. She was quick with her feet, lifting them and placing them down in the middle of a step gracfully, with a flourish. She kicked between his legs and turned them, moving them around the balcony while people looked on. 

“You’re a smooth talker,” she said, “but not so smooth a dancer. That’s fine though; I like to teach.”

He swallowed hard. “I can be a very motivated student.”

She smirked. “Cut the banter. You’re in. Just be honest with me, and you’ll have a good time tonight,” she said, her fingers creeping up his shoulder towards his neck. “But if you want to learn…” she said, and dropped her hand to his hip, and shifted them around, so that instead of leading from the follow, she had taken the lead entirely. He heard people chuckling in the murmurs.

“Er, what do you mean, ‘I’m in’?”

“What do you think I mean, Romeo?” she said, and he jumped as he felt her discretely palm his crotch between the two of them before returning her hand to his hip. “I saw the way you were looking at me. That meant one of two things… either you couldn’t look away from the freak, or you realized that your two brains didn’t agree about running away. Like a deer caught in headlights… because he’s got a headlight fetish,” she said, and again the stinger shifted, and he knew now for certain she was doing it to get a reaction out of him.

“It’s not that…” he said, because it really wasn’t.

“No? Then what were you looking at?”

“I told you…”

“You liked what you saw? What did you like?”

He hesitated. “I like your… hair.”

That made her laugh in his face. “Thanks. And I’ve got pretty eyes, too?” she said, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated, cutesy way, which looked really weird with her bright yellow eyes. She pressed herself against him, particularly her chest, and purred. “Nothing else catch your attention?”

Again, he couldn’t help but flick his view at the stinger hovering nearby.   
“Well, aside from that,” she said, and he wondered if anyone could see that she kept gripping his crotch while they danced. He felt so awkward, being lead around as a follow in a dance that he wasn’t too familiar with. After an excruciating few minutes, the DJ went back to playing something suitably synthed, and Scorpia stopped dancing. He couldn’t imagine her bumping and grinding, at least not while dancing, so when she took him by the hand and lead him through the crowd, he knew she wasn’t taking him to a better spot. Again, at least not for dancing.

When they got into the elevator, and she turned the key in the penthouse keyhole, he knew the game was on.

“I was getting bored of that. I’m mostly a solo animal,” she said, taking his hands in hers, and pushing him into the corner of the elevator, “although I do like to dance.” She ground her knee between his legs and her face was close to his. She leaned in to kiss him, but then kissed his neck instead. “Scorpions often ‘hold hands’ before they mate… though usually it’s the male the leads them off…”

Her stinger loomed closer and closer, and he’d never been so relieved as he was when the elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened, after having ascended another double dozen floors up. He hadn’t expected what he saw. Normally, penthouses like this were large, open affairs, with sunroofs and big glass windows. When he stepped off the elevator, he saw that hers was more like a grungy apartment than anything, all dark corners and tight spaces. The lighting could best be described as “mood,” with most of the light coming from within large, wall-mounted or recessed tanks… which is when he noticed the unmistakable cacophonic din of chittering legs. 

There must have been hundreds of them, skittering about in their tanks, some small, some very large. The lighting in some of the tanks caused them to glow blue and green, which would have been a pretty display if they weren’t venomous arachnids. 

"So, uh, why did they use to call you Scorpia?" he asked, bringing the conversation to the scorpion in the room.

"Gee, I wonder," she said, bringing the tremendous stinger up into view. "I assume you mean before. You know what they say: be careful what you wish for; you just might get it," she said, with a menacing grin.

"Yeah. I heard it was because you... liked scorpions."

"Well, I do. But that's not why... here, I'll show you. Make yourself comfortable in there," she said, pointing past another row of tanks to a dark room. Between the dark unknown and the bright, glowing known, he knew he wasn’t going to make himself ‘comfortable’ in there, but he went nonetheless.

When he finally found the light (more mood lighting), he realized where he was: in her bedroom. Since she was out of the room, he quickly busied himself looking for… well, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He knew he’d have a shot at hacking her comm once she fell asleep… but that meant getting her to fall asleep. He looked out the window, and noticed that there was a scaffolding that went a few floors down. That would have to be his point of exit. As for his point of entry…

That was when he noticed it. She hadn’t been wearing her comm at the party… and there was one sitting, in the open, on her bed. He picked it up, carefully, and turned it on. He plugged his datajack into it, keeping mindful of the entrance to the room so that he could have plausible deniability when she did return. He had started to bruteforce his way in when he heard a voice… from a completely different direction than he’d been expecting.

“Find anything interesting?”

He nearly jumped straight into the air. He spun to see that she’d entered the room through some other means, though how she escaped detection, he couldn’t say. He noticed that she’d changed her outfit… and was wearing considerably less. Almost immediately after that, he noticed an addition to her wardrobe that made his throat tighten.

“Relax. I knew you were after my comm. Marco tipped me off.”

“Marco… he set me up?!”

She grinned. “I don’t want to talk about Marco right now, even though I do owe him one… he’s not my type. You, on the other hand…” she said, and her stinger seemed to draw closer. Either way, he was more concerned with the thing attached to her harness.

When she saw him looking down at it, she looked down at herself, and wiggled it a bit. "Check it out. It glows in the dark. Which is appropriate, because I'm really going to light up your ass."

He made a break for the window. At the corner of his vision came a blur, and so he stopped short, just as a tremendous stinger embedded itself about two inches into the wall a few inches in front of his face. 

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to have some fun…”  
She pulled the stinger free of the wall and plaster and debris poured from the hole she’d made. 

“Face the wall,” she commanded. When he hesitated, she lifted the stinger again, and he turned to face the wall. “Good. Now, I’m sure you were prepared to… loosen me up first if it came to that. But we’ll get to that later… for now, I’m going to commute your sentence.”

She walked over to the bedside, but he didn’t dare move. When she returned, she came over with a tub, and placed it on a shelf right next to him.

“Tail wax?” he said, trying to ease the tension.

“Anal lube, actually,” she said, matter-of-factly, popping open the lid and grabbing out a fistful of the goop, before grabbing hold of her ‘stinger’ with the same hand. "Let's see if you're still so much of a smart ass after I let this big fat strap-on of mine stew in yours for a bit.”

Almost nonchalantly, she kicked his legs apart, and put the fat dildo between his cheeks, which were no longer protecting the hole between them. She felt around with her finger until she found it. Then she ran her thumb, which was wet and sticky, down it roughly. 

“There we go; there’s the prize. Look at you – you’re blushing! Never had a woman play with your asshole before, huh?” Just as abruptly as she’d placed her thumb there, she pulled it away, then spanked him flat on the cheek, making him squeal. She reached around and tapped his cock with her finger. “Nice and hard, good. Which was it, the spank or the donut hole fingering?”  
He remained silent.

“See, a smart boy would have said the spank,” she said, spanking him again. “Now I’m going to have to experiment.” She dipped her thumb in the vat, gripped onto his thigh with one hand to hold his legs apart, found the hole again with her finger, and then shoved her whole thumb right up his butt. When she reached around to touch his cock again, the tip was moist. “That’s what I thought. And you’re nice and tight, too. Oh well.”

Just like that, she pulled her thumb from his butt, and replaced it with her middle finger. She pushed it in and out, which made him moan, her ring and index fingers stroking his perineum. She pulled it out just as abruptly as she started, and he realized she didn’t care at all about his comfort.

“As much fun as it is to fingerbang a slut… I think it’s time I go cave-spelunking with this thing.” Once again, she found his hole with her finger, this time while standing upright behind him, reaching down. She pulled his hole open with her finger, and pressed the tip of the strap-on to it. “You ready?” He nodded, defeated. “Alright, bite your lip and stand up on your tippy-toes, then. This is going to make you scream.”

She wasn’t kidding. Her feminine hand on his hip was reassuring right up until the moment he felt the plastic thing press up against to his hole. It was cold, and moist with lube, and disturbingly solid. The second she started to ease her hips forward, he realized his anus didn’t want to give. It felt like she was just pushing it flat against the hole without even trying to penetrate… but then, as she held it open, he felt his sphincter started to give, and then, all at once, it opened wide and swallowed it, and he didn’t scream, but only because he couldn’t find the air. A second later, she gently placed her other hand on his hip, and he finally got enough of his voice to groan, more of an exasperated growl, followed by a whine. He didn’t care if she thought he was a wuss.

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re just getting started, though,” she said, resting her stinger on his shoulder, “so you aren’t going anywhere for a while.”   
It was uncomfortable to stand up on his toes, but if he went flat again, he was going to sit down on another inch. Not that he could avoid it; she started to slowly ease her hips forward, which “eased” the dildo further and further up his butt, his spread sphincter beginning to regret opening up for phallic silicon stranger which was now ruining it.

"I'm sensing some resistance. Don't worry, that'll be regret soon enough."  
Up and up it went, although she didn’t bottom out before she started to rock her hips back and forth, bringing the dildo in and out about halfway.

"Yeah, take it like a man... you little bitch."

He tried to keep away from it, but she just got closer and closer. He considered trying to dislodge it completely and making another run, but his shorts were around his ankles, and her stinger was poised to strike. The glow from her other stinger gradually faded, as did his will to flee.

His hard shaft swung between his legs, trailing precum to the floor, which didn’t escape Scorpia’s notice. 

"Hey, are you getting close to cumming? Don't you want to save it for my pussy? Or..." she said, running her finger down the side of the shaft, "...do you want some service up front right now?" He tensed up. "You do want that, don't you?" she said sultrily, continuing to tease him with her finger. "You do want me to jerk you off, don't you? Oh, but you probably want me to stop churning your butter at the same time, right? Too bad. <3"

She kept twiddling his penis, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

"Go on, say it. Say you want to cum with a big, fake dick in your ass."

It was difficult to concentrate on what she was saying while she kept fucking his ass with it, and with her finger gently running up and down the side of the shaft, there was no question in his whole being that he wanted her to grab it and not stop pumping her fist until he flung enough goo to impregnate her palm. He wanted her to stroke his cock so badly, but he couldn't bring himself to say it because he knew it would accompany her stroking his colon, too.

“I want… to cum…”

She grabbed hold of him, and started to pump up and down. Her hand was lubricated, the same lube she’d used on the strap-on. He tried to hold in the inevitable, but could barely strain to contain his moans. She reached around under him with her other hand, holding her palm under him… to catch what he let fly.

She sped up as he was nearing orgasm... which made him near orgasm faster. With each thrust she grunted a little feminine noise, that quickly became a chorus of the word "cum, cum, cum." Who was he to argue?

The sudden tensing of his anal sphincter seemed to annoy her, so she put more force into her thrusts to keep up her momentum, busting open his spasming asshole in the process, which burned terribly. Despite that, he was already well underway, and it shot out of him with force.

She hummed to herself when she felt him blast it into her palm. She synced up her sudden jerks with thrusts into his ass, just to drive the point home that she was milking it out of him. By the time he was finished, his ass felt raw.

"Splat. That was a pretty big one... to waste." She idly wiped off her sticky hand on his ass. Having his own cum wiped off on his own ass was… humbling. “That one would have got me pregnant for sure. Can’t be too careful… let’s make sure the next one doesn’t end up anywhere dangerous, either,” she said, and even though he was flaccid and spent, she started to poke it up into his butt again, her hips slapping against his now-wet ass.

“What… are you doing?!” he said, as she drove it up into him.

"This is my patented form of birth control. I get you to spit your goo all over my hand a few times, so there's no sperm left," and then spanked his dry cheek, hard, leaving a red handprint. “So wakey wakey!”

No matter how hard he tried to… well, get hard, he couldn’t. Feeling her fuck his ass while he was flaccid was somehow even more embarrassing.

"Let's see if we can shorten that refractory period," she said, pressing her body up against his, her breasts on his back, her… strap-on, buried in his ass. It was even more uncomfortable now that he was flaccid, and he felt a dull ache as she stirred it around with her hips, but soon she’d succeeded, and he started to get hard again. “Aw, look at that, you love it! Well, I'm gonna keep pounding your ass till you're done spewing, so get to it."

With his previous load drying on his ass-cheek, Slip knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to milk him a second time. At least, that’s what he thought, but after a few more minutes of rear-ending, she’d placed her palm in front of him and her other hand wrapped around him, and she seemed to think she make lightning strike twice. She slammed her hips against him, and he had barely felt it building before he was caught unawares. Just like that, he was about to prematurely ejaculate with his ass.

"Fire two!" she cried, and he had no choice but to obey. He felt the cum rushing through his cock with intensity, and her hand squeezing it, about to pump it out like pressurized water gun… but then, she released it, leaving it to bob freely, stiff and primed. He felt shock more than disappointment, however, as the dam had already broken; he was cumming. His cock twitched once, twice, while she pounded him in the ass, and then it bubbled out of the tip, thick and unsatisfying. A moment later, it twitched again, and it spit some onto the floor almost as an afterthought. With his orgasm subsiding, the pressure in his ass again dominated his sensations. 

"Yeah, let it dribble," she said, apparently pleased with herself that she ruined his orgasm. “Now that’s pathetic. Getting your asshole reamed and you don’t even enjoy the squirt. Next time, warn me, so I don’t accidentally let go again. Are my handjob skills that good, that you couldn’t even hold it?”

He knew there was nothing “accidental” about it, but he held his tongue.

“Bet you wish these loads of yours were ending up in my pussy instead, huh? Here, let me give you a taste of what that feels like…” 

He got his hopes up, only to have them dashed against the rocks. She started to fuck him again while he was still flaccid, and he knew she was going to demonstrate what it would “feel like”… on the receiving end.

“Uh, yeah bitch, keep that asshole tight for me… ungh…” she grunted, sliding it in and out abruptly, “gonna dump it all, right in your ass... ugh…” she said, smacking his ass sharply. “Oh, yeah, here it comes… oh… mmgh...” He heard a squelching noise and felt something sticky on the strap-on, and for a moment panicked, before he realized what she’d done. She’d squeezed out a glob of lube onto it while she pulled out, and gave his asshole a wet-willy with it when she pushed it back in, so that it would feel like she was “cumming.”

“The best thing about this is that I can do that and stay hard. Seems you’re hard again, too,” she said, noticing his stiffy. The sensation of the cold lube on the strap-on had definitely had an effect on him. The strap-on slid in and out with little resistance, occasionally bottoming out painfully. Sensing his discomfort, she started to pump it in a bit shallower. That changed his tone. “Wow, about to blow a third load, are you? I can't tell if you're a stallion or a bitch in heat."

This time, she only had to grab hold and stroke him twice before he let it go, and she caught the load in her hand again. When he was done spraying her hand, she wiped it off on his face.

"You're so fun to bully."

He shuddered through the rest of his orgasm, exhausted by the ordeal. He had hoped she was going to stop, but when she picked up the pace again, he knew he was in it for the long haul.

“There was still a good amount of goo in that one. Maybe one more to clean you out…”

She pulled it free and lubed it up again before reinserting it. She pushed it in deep, and pressed down on his back with both hands so that he would stick out his rear end. Then, she started to slam it in and out, mercilessly. He stood on his toes and spread his knees apart so that he could handle it, and the silicon tube slid in and out his tube with ease. She started to spank him, but on his ass, not his cock, and he wondered how long she was going to torment him before taking him in her hand again. Eventually, he realized that she didn’t plan to.

"Just knock out number four already," she said, irritated, before spanking him on his cheek again, which stung. He shuddered. She kept going at it, without pause, so he felt it building, and building, and building, until eventually something ran over, and he felt the cum again bubbling out unsatisfactorily.

“I… I can’t…” he said, and he felt her pull it out.

“Done, huh? Alright, your turn. You want to fuck me, right?"

She lead him over to the bed, although he was barely able to stand, and pushed him onto it. He heard her undoing some clasp, and when he worked up the strength to turn over, she was completely naked. The only stinger still attached to her was the one that didn’t come off. She was smaller than he expected, although she still towered over him as they were, and was still just as intimidating as she climbed onto the bed. She took his cock in hand, but it showed no sign of life, even as she straddled him and rubbed it against herself, a wicked grin on her face.

"What's the matter? You're spent? Got all the satisfaction you needed from my dildo, did you?"

She crawled up his body, and he could feel the stinger as it moved about behind her. Her bright golden eyes stared into his, penetrating. 

“You can spend the night here, if you want. For what it's worth, I had fun anyway. I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime."

The panicked look on his face made her chuckle. She came to rest beside him, idly playing with his morbidly flaccid penis.

"You know, scorpions very rarely cannibalize their mates. You don't have to look so worried." As she said that, the lights went out, and the room was nearly pitch black… aside from the softly luminescent tail, and the brightly radiating item that had been discarded on the floor. Slip felt her breath on his neck, and could still see her eyes faintly glowing in the dark.


End file.
